


Shock

by raewise



Series: The Slytherin and the Gryffindor [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Getting Together, Growing Up Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewise/pseuds/raewise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is shocked at the Gryffindor and Slytherin who seem to have become a couple. How did that happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shock

Shock.

That was what everyone felt as they watched the conniving Slytherin and cheery Gryffindor trail down the hall hand-in-hand. They were such opposites, everyone’s jaws dropped. But the loving gazes they sent each other were unmistakable. They were boyfriends.

Alfred F. Jones was a fifth year Gryffindor. He was tall, with bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He wore glasses, and his American accent stood out in the school. He had a younger brother in Ravenclaw, but no one remembered the quiet boy’s name. He was the school golden boy. Everyone either loved him or hated him. No one knew him better than Arthur Kirkland, though.

Arthur was a sixth year with a sarcastic attitude and knack to find the oddest magical creatures. Despite his grumpy attitude, he always managed to befriend said creatures. His cooking was something to be missed, though. Burned to a crisp and smoking. Somehow he was able to eat it, and always stated it was delicious, and scowled anyone who thought otherwise. He was pushy, constantly angry and a bit eccentric at times. Not many people liked him, or could stomach being around him. No one but Alfred.

—

Their “friendship” started the second year of Arthur’s Hogwarts career. Alfred had spotted Arthur, sitting alone with a Muggle-made novel in the Great Hall. He looked very lonely, if not engrossed by the book. He had approached him cheerfully, sitting to everyone’s surprise at the very edge of the Slytherin table. Arthur, though, didn’t even look up.

Alfred sat there for a long time just watching the big-browed boy. He liked the way his tongue stuck out between soft-looking lips as he concentrated on words. Alfred didn’t even eat breakfast, an odd thing for the gluttonous first-year. He liked Arthur from the very beginning.

“Hey.” Arthur jumped, tossing the book over his head as he collapsed backwards off of the bench, his silver and emerald scarf flung over his face as he reddened in embarrassment.

Alfred’s fellow Gryffindors cheered him on for scaring the other child from where they sat on the other side of the Great Hall, but Alfred ignored them. He was worried about the nameless kid he had never seen before. He rushed over to the boy’s side, and helped him up, earning complaints as he hefted the boy up bridal style, cradling the shorter boy’s head to his chest with surprising strength.

Arthur pushed off red-faced and sputtering.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled, earning the attention from all of the other young teenagers who hadn’t noticed before.

Alfred shrugged. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Damn Yankee.” He looked away, collecting his book from the ground.

Alfred smiling, leaning against the table, crossing his arms over his chest before extending one to the boy.

“The name’s Alfred Jones. You can call me Alfred.”

Arthur just stared at the offered hand, scoffing and turning away.

“I’ll call you what I wish.” He moved to walk away, but Alfred grabbed hold of his shoulder and tugged him so he was facing him.

“You’re supposed to tell me your name.”

Arthur shook his head, annoyed. “Leave me alone.”

Alfred watched him walk away, squinting at the door as it closed behind the angry student.

“Pride and Prejudice?”

—

The next time they spoke it was Alfred’s third year. Arthur didn’t remember their meeting in the slightest, but Alfred had never forgotten. He watched Arthur longingly every day. He always had a new book, and Alfred always read them after him, checking them out from the library. Some of his favourites were adventure novels, from Treasure Island to The Lord of the Rings. He liked not only the different world the books put him into, but the fact he felt extremely close to Arthur whenever he read them.

Alfred’s little fascination with the older boy had somehow evolved into a crush. Every time he saw the green-eyed beauty he felt his heart flutter and face grow hot. His lips always grew dry, and his palms sweated. Of course, Arthur didn’t acknowledge him. Arthur was a loner, keeping his own company and only speaking to someone if that French student Francis Bonnefoy was getting on his nerves again. But even then he usually ignored him.

Arthur had been in the potion’s lab, trying to concoct the Draught of Peace to calm his returning headaches and be able to study for upcoming tests.

Alfred had been watching him, and tried to grow the nerve to walk into the room. Finally, with a long breath, he busted the door all the way open, earning a concrete look from Arthur, who didn’t stop his stirring.

“What is it?”

Alfred went pink. He had forgotten to think of something to say. He wanted something clever, but the words wouldn’t come. In a jumble of stress he somehow spat out, “Around the World in Eighty Days.”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

Alfred’s face grew even redder. “By Jules Verne?”

Arthur turned his back on him for a second, cooling the potion.

“What about it?”

Alfred opened his mouth without thinking. “You’re the one who borrowed it from the library, right?” Arthur nodded a bit, a slight confused tilt to his head. “I need it.”

“What for? Surely third-years have no need of it for their lessons?”

“Muggle Studies.”

Arthur poured his potion into a vial, popping a cork in the top, quite satisfied with its outcome.

“Ah.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, leather-bound copy of the discussed novel, handing it to Alfred with smooth movements. “I just finished it this morning. I liked it.”

With that, Arthur left the Gryffindor in the empty room, banging his head against the wall.

—

Alfred had grown enough courage to approach Arthur on occasion, talking to him about the classic Muggle novels they read. Arthur always seemed rather annoyed with his timing, but never protested to the accompaniment at his loan edge of the Slytherin table.

“What do you think about the Three Musketeers?” Alfred asked, nibbling carefully on his egg.

Arthur curled his lip away from perfect teeth. “They’re French.”

Alfred lifted a confused eyebrow. “So?”

“I hate the French.” He smiled a bit. “The only thing worse are the Americans.”

Alfred stood up, mock anger playing at his handsome face. “I resent that!”

Arthur shrugged and continued to eat his breakfast, for once ignoring the book taunting him on the edge of the table.

Alfred could feel himself fall even further in love than he already was.

—

Arthur had snuck out again. It was a growing occurrence, and Alfred was beginning to become worried. He could see his cloaked figure cross the dark field from Gryffindor Tower, a crease growing on his brow.

He slipped on a pair of slippers and slipped out of the Gryffindor Common Room, unseen as he stuck to the shadows down the corridors and out the doors. He jogged in the direction of the Forbidden forest, growing weary. He was already rather petrified of the ghosts that lurked in the castle, and had heard the rumours about the Forest.

As trees enveloped him, setting him into darkness, he felt his stomach give an unheroic lurk and a cry escaped his lips. He walked further, until he could hear a familiar voice. Arthur.

He twisted between trees, stopping when he saw Arthur sitting in the middle of the clearing, looking up at a brilliant white stallion. It seemed to shimmer as it tossed the bright golden mane over its long neck, a long spiraling horn shimmering under the moonlight. A smile was on Arthur’s lips, and he stroked the animal’s lower leg until it dipped its head slow and let him pet its snout.

“Wow!” The unicorn lurked upwards at the unfamiliar, loud voice, and Arthur felt his calmness leave him as he groaned and looked at Alfred, who was grinning like an idiot. “Is that a unicorn?”

“No,” Arthur stated, “it’s a narwhale.”

Alfred’s mood deflated. “Really?”

Arthur promptly face-palmed. “Of course it’s a bloody unicorn, you twit!”

Alfred smiled again and approached the two. The unicorn was oddly responsive, ducking his head in a bow that Arthur usually received whenever he visited. The creature let out a soft whiny, a sound much like jingle bells.

The two spent the entire night sitting and talking, smiling at their new secret.

—

It was Alfred’s fifth year, and the two had grown extremely close. No one really noticed, but the two of them spent nearly every waking minute together. They hung out in the library, or at night in the Forbidden Forest with Uni, who was a surprisingly great conversationalist. Headmistress McGonagall had noticed them, and overlooked their rule-breaking. They weren’t hurting anyone, and she had always had a soft spot for young love, which she was certain that would morph into.

Alfred sat on his bed, ignoring his roommate Feliciano’s continuous chatter about his Hufflepuff boyfriend Ludwig. He was coming up with a plan to finally confess to Arthur. Ever since they became friends, his feelings had only grown stronger, and he felt himself break down whenever Arthur commented that a girl was “lovely” or “pretty”. He just wanted to finally be able to hold the smaller in his arms and inhale the scent of parchment, tea and ink he had grown so accustomed to.

He felt his heart swell at the thought, and his cheeks redden, but Feliciano didn’t notice.

Alfred stood from his bed, feeling nausea overcome him, and rushed from the room, ignoring Feliciano’s worried calls after him. Halfway down the stairway, he felt the sickness leave, and sighed in relief. Instead of going back up to his room, he found his legs moving against his will in the direction of the library. He knew Arthur would be in there. He had probably just finished another book (like he did nearly every other day) and was searching for a new one.

Finally, after running full-speed down the corridors, he stopped outside the tall doors of the library. He knew that Arthur was in there, and he knew that he loved the older boy. He let out a long sigh, feeling his eyes mist up at the thought that maybe Arthur would deny him. Maybe Arthur didn’t even like boys like that? It was very possible, with the way his eyes followed various women. His eyes had always clouded over when he looked at girls, so Alfred was unable to tell if his expression was approving or believing them improper.

Alfred ran his hands down the wood, and before he could turn back, threw them open. A few people looked up from their work, but noticing it was just the typically loud American, went back to their studying. Alfred scanned the tables for a second, and, seeing Arthur wasn’t there, began to search the aisles.

Not in the potions, charms, or magical creature sections… He picked up his already quick pace and headed to the back of the large room, only to see Arthur crouched to the ground with a book in his hands, eyes scanning the page appreciatively. He was in the Muggle literature section, as always, and had the smallest of smiles on his face. Alfred was transported back to his first year, when he had seen him sitting all alone. Of course, both had grown, and Arthur looked even more mature. His jaw had grown more defined, his brows thicker and eyes wiser. His body was lean, legs long and slender, and hands callused from flipping pages and taking notes.

“Arthur.” Said boy looked up, quirking an eyebrow.

“Hello there, Alfred.” He patted the seat next to him and Alfred gulped, slipping beside his best friend. Their thighs were touching.

“Watcha reading?” Alfred asked, looked the cover of the book over. Arthur looked down at the title, and bookmarked his page, resting it on his lap.

“Sense and Sensibility.”

Alfred nodded. Arthur had already read it a while ago. Alfred had liked it, not as much as some of the more exciting books, but it was interesting. He had always liked Jane Austen, and loved her romance.

“Haven’t you read it already?”

Arthur gave a distant smile. “It’s one of my favourites.” Alfred always liked Arthur post-reading. He seemed dreamy and easy-going. Alfred could say anything around him, and Arthur just passed it off. Alfred was a bit glad he was currently book happy for what he wanted to come out and say.

“Arthur?” His voice wavered, and he winced at the weak tone. Arthur looked at him, and Alfred felt his face grow hot at the close distance of their faces.

“Yes?”

“When I first saw you, you were reading.”

“In the potions lab?” His eyebrows furrowed and Alfred shook his head.

“No.” He could feel his hands shaking. “I was in my first year at Hogwarts, and you were sitting all alone.” He tugged at his gold and crimson tie just to have something for his hands to do.

Arthur went a little red and looked away, and Alfred was tempted to grab his chin and gently make him look him in the eye, but restrained himself. Why Arthur was so embarrassed, Alfred had no idea.

“If I were Elizabeth Bennet,” he started, growing pink, “would you be my Mr. Darcy?”

Arthur sputtered; gorgeous eyes bugging out of his head. “W-what?” He shook his head madly. “Alfred, you know—” Alfred cut him off by firmly cupping his hand over the smaller’s mouth.

“The book you were reading was Pride and Prejudice. I read it because of you. I’ve read everything you have.”

“You know they were a couple then!” Arthur stood, grabbing his things from the ground. His face was very red, and a sense of urgency rolled off of him in waves that Alfred sank back from. But when he saw Arthur was going to turn and run away, he reached out and grabbed Arthur by the sleeve of his robes, tugging him down with a bit too much force so the Brit landed in his lap.

“I had a crush on you back then.”

Arthur squirmed on top of him, trying to get away, but Alfred had a firm grasp around his waist, pulling him so their chests were flush together, noses and lips centimetres apart.

“Back then?” Arthur breathed, eyes wide.

“It’s changed.” His eyes searched Arthur’s, and he could see a hint of fear coating the back of them. He wanted to smear that look away and replace it with the happy look he had when he was around Uni or with a classic Muggle novel.

“How?” Alfred liked the tingle of Arthur’s warm breath against his lips. He smiled just a little, eyeing Arthur’s lower lip, which was slick with a faint bit of saliva.

“I think I’m in love with you.” With that, Arthur smashed his lips against Alfred’s. The taste of tea and burnt scones played at the American’s tongue. It was a kiss that lasted for a long time, the only scents those of worn paper and ink and Alfred’s musky cologne. Tongues wrestled, and unheard confessions that ran through their veins like liquid fire. When they pulled away, both had swollen lips and rosy cheeks. Arthur was panting, and Alfred leaned his head back against the bookshelf, looking at the ceiling.

“Yes,” Arthur said simply, looking away embarrassed, but he was still smiling faintly.

“What?”

“I would be your Mr. Darcy.”

Alfred gripped his jaw and made him look into his baby blues. He was smiling.

“I’ll forever be your Elizabeth then.”

Arthur grinned, laughs bubbling out from his chest as he leaned his shaking figure further against the taller boy. Alfred leaned his chin against the top of Arthur’s mop of blonde hair, enjoying the scent of his cucumber shampoo.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah?”

“I remember the first time we met. I wasn’t sure if you did. I think I had a crush on you as well, but I would never admit it. I’m kind of glad you’re braver than I am.”

Alfred chuckled, running his hands through the sandy blonde hair he had grown to love so much. “I am a Gryffindor after all.”

Arthur sighed lightly, smiling into Alfred’s sweater. “And I a Slytherin.”

—

As the couple walked down the hallways, they felt the eyes on them, but neither cared much. Arthur leaned into Alfred’s arm, smiling fondly up at him. Alfred’s grin was contagious, and he was soon laughing at nothing. He felt his heart warm as Alfred let go of his hand and snaked his arm around his waist. It was everything he had ever wanted, and he didn’t care much about how much of a shock it was to the other students.

A Slytherin and Gryffindor walked down the corridors hand-in-hand, and while people stared in awe, they just laughed.


End file.
